Screwed
by unicornsandrainbows
Summary: Thinking was definitely overrated. / An attempt at figuring out what was going on Nick's and Jess's heads, this time during the last few minutes of Virgins. Final chapter is up and takes place after the closing credits. Thank you all for the wonderful response to this story!
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: Thanks so much for the responses I've received for my first fic, Silver Linings. I guess there's something in Nick's brain that makes me want to pick it apart. :) This is an attempt at doing that for the last three minutes of Virgins. If you review (please!), kindly let me know if you think I should expand on this... I have some ideas for an additional chapter or two if there is interest. Thanks!**_

Thinking was definitely overrated.

His dad was right about that.

Maybe it was the jealousy; maybe it was the desperation. All he knew was that he had the same awful feeling in his gut that he'd had the night he'd kissed her, when he'd seen her walking away with Sam.

He couldn't let that happen. Not with the fireman. Not when he'd almost had her. And for once, he had an inkling of what went on in her head, too - and apparently it was the same noise that played in his own head, that was drowning out what was really important.

It took him less than a minute to move, block the elevator doors, and go to her. She was surprised, but not upset. He may have said something but he didn't remember; he'd shut off his brain, after all, and for once was letting something else drive him.

It felt good. Terrifying, but good.

He locked eyes with her, steering them to his room, making sure he didn't bump her on any doorframes, somehow, which was no mean feat considering his gaze didn't waver from her face. He couldn't look away.

Until they reached his bed, and then he almost lost his nerve. Looked at it, then her again, and tried to figure out if there was anything he should say. He couldn't think of anything. Maybe that was the point.

And then she kissed him, and he was kissing her back, and the clothes came off, and it was everything he'd wanted.

He'd thought about how it might be, with her, the first time. Hell, he'd had enough nights to imagine every possible scenario, from the sweetest to the most perverse. He'd imagined the aftermath, too. On his more despondent nights his self-doubt would creep in and he'd wonder if she would be disappointed; on better nights he figured that he could, at the very least, satisfy her enough to make her smile afterwards.

It was nothing like any of that. At first he couldn't stop kissing her; her responses and her own kisses kept goading him on. And then when he was forced to tear his mouth away from hers, and their shirts came off, he couldn't look away. He needed to see everything she did, every shiver, every gasp. Needed to know what she wanted. What she needed.

Towards the end, they'd locked eyes, and it was possibly the most intense moment he'd ever had, with anyone.

So yeah, it was nothing like he'd imagined it might be.

What he didn't count on was the giddiness. Or that she'd be just as taken aback as he.

It took just a moment for his brain to turn back on again, and all the questions and doubts he'd been harboring about them to reappear in his mind. But they were dulled by the afterglow, this time. And every time he looked at her - every damn time - he'd end up with a stupid grin on his face and the questions and doubts seemed less important.

And then, of course, there was the question that he had never counted on actually having to consider. If it was_ that good_ with her, what the hell was he supposed to do now?

There was that grin again.

He was, by all accounts, screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Thank you so, so much for all the reviews! I am completely floored by the response to this fiction. Funnily enough, I was actually planning on writing this next chapter from Jess's perspective, so for those of you who asked for it, here it is. :) Ironically, Jess actually seems a tougher nut to crack than Nick - I credit Jake Johnson's acting skills for getting Nick's emotions to just jump off the screen. I had a little trouble getting this one started, until I realized that Jess's POV would probably be more meandering and emotionally-oriented. As before, please review! I have plans for one additional chapter after this one._

Thinking was definitely overrated.

Somehow, Nick Miller, her friend, roommate, and guy-she'd-been-wanting-to-sleep-with for weeks now, had managed to - literally - sweep her off her feet, stun her speechless, and turn off her brain, all within seconds of catching up with her in the elevator. Successfully accomplishing even one of those things was admirable enough, considering whom he'd been dealing with. Doing all three was, frankly, unbelievable. She'd resigned herself to his never being able to articulate anything that was going on in his heart - let alone head - after giving him one last chance, and was frankly looking forward to the drinks more than actually meeting Teddy by then. Maybe the drinks would dull the pain, frustration, and disappointment enough to get her through what would inevitably be another week or two of walking on eggshells around each other.

She missed the Nick who'd grabbed her like the hero out of a romance novel, kissed her like she'd never been kissed in her life, was willing to take her on the freaking kitchen table once he found out she wanted him. Problem was, she had no idea where that Nick came from or how to get him back. All she knew was that he wanted... something from her. And she wasn't willing - okay, she could be honest with herself; she was too scared - to give in unless he could tell her what that was. She'd had enough of the lingering looks. She could practically see the steam coming out of his ears when she talked about Teddy tonight. But if that's all this was - thinking she was hot and getting pissed off at the thought of someone else getting close to her - then it wasn't enough. Not enough to risk a friendship that had become so important to her, even if it was a little broken right now. Even if he was the one who'd broken it. She'd already forgiven him for that, but she wouldn't forgive herself if she messed up.

So she didn't. And she couldn't read his face, couldn't read his mind, couldn't read anything into his actions. Until tonight.

Somehow, he'd either figured out what made her tick, or just went with what, in a very, very interesting coincidence, was exactly right for both of them. Picked her up. Shut her up. Stopped her thinking.

And completely mesmerized her with the look on his face, in his eyes. She vaguely remembered him carrying her to his room, holding her close, both their hearts pounding - she could feel his, too; and suddenly, they were there, and he looked at his bed; her eyes followed; and his breath started coming more rapidly. She didn't remember much else about how she felt other than wanting to kiss him more than she'd ever wanted to before. Wanting him to take her. Wanting to be with him.

She'd always had her fantasies about that Romantic Hero - the guy who was confident, knew what he wanted, knew exactly what to do with a girl in bed. Over the last few weeks, she'd wondered how close to that ideal Nick could get. She wasn't stupid - she knew it was an ideal. She'd have doubted him completely, except for the two times they'd kissed. That first kiss, especially, she hadn't been able to get out of her mind, even after that entire fiasco with Jax. Because he'd been right, when they'd squabbled at the marriage convention. It had been... perfect. Straight out of a romance novel, or a fairy tale.

But as much as everyone may have believed that she lived in her own happy little rainbow land, she knew that expecting perfection was completely unrealistic; and certainly that went for expecting lightning to strike twice. So, she figured, he was probably as decent as anyone who knew a thing or two would be in bed. She knew his past girlfriends had seemed happy. And she knew he could be really sweet and considerate with the people he cared about. Funny how she'd never put that together with her impression of take-charge Nick. But then if she had, she might not have been nearly as floored about what happened.

She kissed him, and he was kissing her back, and suddenly she was on the bed and he was reminding her exactly why she'd obsessed about his mouth for that long. And once the clothes came off - and that picture on her phone did _not_ do him justice when he was, as they say, in action - she realized that while his mouth was currently one of her favorite things about him, she had drastically - _drastically_ - underestimated what he could do with his hands.

And all the while, he watched her like he was trying to memorize every second, trying to figure out exactly what she needed when they were both completely beyond talking. Trying to be everything she wanted. How could she help but respond to that, and not be everything he wanted right back?

She'd come a long way from being the virgin who'd been swept off her feet by a handsome fireman, or the insecure woman coming out of what was, in hindsight, an extremely dysfunctional relationship with Spencer. She'd gotten over most of her insecurities about what she was like in bed. But she'd never, ever, experienced anything like that before. She'd never been able to give everything of herself, body, heart, and soul, to the person she was with. And she'd certainly never been with anyone who'd given all of himself to her, measure for measure.

She didn't know how he'd done it. But Nick had managed, finally, to show her just how he felt, how much he cared, how much he wanted all of her. All while melting her into a shocked, giggly, glowing puddle of gooey happiness.

She was, by all accounts, screwed.


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: Thanks once again for the incredible response to this story! To the reviewer who changed their mind about thinking I shouldn't add to the first chapter after having read the second, I can't tell you how much your comment meant to me. Hopefully this last chapter doesn't end the story on a less-than-positive note. I was trying to shift back and forth between perspectives and wanted to include what little dialogue I could envision our beloved characters having, so this chapter is more of a series of related vignettes than anything else, but hopefully they come full circle with the other two chapters. As before, your reviews are more than appreciated!_

1

"Oh, boy."

"Ruh-roh."

"We are so screwed."

He threw back his head and laughed.

_When was the last time he'd laughed in bed like this?_

2

By unspoken agreement they didn't talk about it. It wasn't like she was capable of any real thought right now, anyway. He'd pulled her close after they'd caught their breaths, surprising her once again. _Who'd have thought Mr. I-Don't-Do-Hugs was a cuddler?_ He stroked her arm and her hair, and she pulled herself up for a kiss. It started out gentle, slow and sweet, and stayed that way even as they kept kissing each other back, interspersing their kisses with smiles. By then she was almost completely on top of him; they broke apart once she realized the effect their kisses were having.

"Again?"

He smiled, a little bashfully, and shrugged.

"And here I was planning on seducing you."

"Jess? You're lying on top of me naked and we're kissing. It's not going to take much." His eyes were twinkling.

_Since when did his eyes do that? _She smiled, a bit mischievously. "I guess I'll have to save my plans for another time, then."

He was still trying to wrap his head around "another time" when she started kissing him again.

3

Once again, it was like nothing either of them had expected: light, easy, almost silly. Giggles turning into sighs. The awkwardness both of them had worriedly anticipated in the past never materialized. Instead, Nick's suggestion of "Your turn" was met with a coy smile and an "Okay" as she took the lead, and he'd never thought he'd be that turned on by goofy flirting, but then he'd never expected to encounter any while the object of his desire was moving above him. Once again, he couldn't look away; enthralled, he watched her lose herself in him, and took over their movements when she was no longer able to control hers. She kissed him, passionately, at the end, and it was just as perfect as the first time.

4

More laughter. A little less shock, this time. Just as much bliss.

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"I guess we're good at this." She yawned, mid-sentence, then laughed. "I don't think I can move."

He looked proud of himself. His grin, which felt as if it was permanently stuck to his face, grew larger.

"Then don't."

"I wasn't planning on it, but do you know what happened to my pillow?"

"Here." He found the one on his side of the bed, propped her up, and placed it under her head. Searched among the covers, then the floor, for the other one; found it on the floor at the foot of the bed and placed it next to hers, and then lay down facing her. He found her hand and held it, his thumb moving back and forth. She yawned again.

"I don't know why I'm so tired."

He started laughing. Again. She did, too. "I don't even know what to say to that."

"I think you must've fried my brain. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore."

They lay there, in companionable silence, as her eyes started to close.

"Goodnight, Jess." An almost-whisper.

"Goodnight, Nick." A sleepy murmur.

He stayed there, watching her, until his eyes closed in spite of himself.

Thinking was definitely overrated.


End file.
